


Tear You Apart

by MiniNephthys



Category: Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:25:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniNephthys/pseuds/MiniNephthys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To spare the sword spirit without a master from death, Link accepts his offer and becomes his new master.  Learning how to handle Ghirahim is more tricky than just getting a grip on a sword.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tear You Apart

"Are you saying that we should just forgive you? After everything you've done?" Link asked. Fi was no longer with him, but he still had enough tools and strength that he wasn't afraid of what Ghirahim would do to him if he got too snippy.

Ghirahim didn't seem inclined to fight, though his lips twisted into a smirk. "Certainly not. If I were in any state to oppose you, who has caused me even more trouble than I you - the things I would do, sky child, are not fit for your tender ears."

"You didn't have any problem describing them to me before," Link muttered.

Ignoring him, Ghirahim went on. "However, it is the cold and bitter truth that I have not been sealed away as carefully as your former sword. In the normal course of events, a sword spirit without a master will slowly and painfully turn into a lifeless hunk of metal. I find that prospect... unpleasant."

It did sound like a horrifying fate to Link. "So you really want me to be your new master?"

"In skill with the sword, no one but you can match me. We have the tiniest of personality clashes, but surely that can be overcome! After all, enemy or ally, you and I have always been deeply connected." Link continued to look doubtful, and Ghirahim sighed more dramatically than Link felt he needed to. "In the most basic terms, you can spare an enemy and gain a weapon with strength to match your previous, or be responsible for a needless death. Which of these seem more befitting of a hero, hm?"

Link knew Ghirahim was untrustworthy and manipulative, but he couldn't just abandon him to die when he didn't seem like he would cause any harm. Maybe under better direction, he'd be at least slightly less... Ghirahim.

"All right. How do I become your master?"

Ghirahim's face lit up with something like joy. "Wonderful! I assure you, any regret for this decision will be no fault of mine."

That wasn't reassuring.

"For you, I'll make the process quick. Simply grasp my hilt with the intent to wield me, and I will allow you the honor."

Seeing Ghirahim turn into a sword would probably never stop being strange to Link, even if he kept him around for a long time. Bracing himself - if this involved pain, Ghirahim wouldn't have warned him - he took Ghirahim's hilt and tried to lift it.

There was a moment of resistance when the sword felt incredibly heavy, before the weight disappeared almost entirely. The sword felt good in his hand, like it had been meant to be there when it was forged.

Then the feeling disappeared, and his hand was on soft skin instead of hard metal. Ghirahim was bent over enough to whisper in his ear. "I am at your service, master."

"Please back up." The words left Link's mouth before he realized he should and could be more authoritative. "I-I mean, I order-"

Ghirahim laughed and disappeared in a flash of diamonds, only to reappear a distance away. "If you _order_ me, I suppose I have no choice to allow you your excessive personal space. It really is a weakness of yours, and one I'll have to rid you of now that I've chosen you."

Link shouldn't have wondered if he would change.

* * *

Keeping Ghirahim around had proven to be less difficult than he'd imagined. Zelda wasn't very fond of him, and for good reason, but once Link had given her his justification for sparing him she had told him that she trusted his decisions and that was that.

Most everyone else in Skyloft didn't know who Ghirahim was, so the worst Link had to do was justify where his new roommate had come from. A quick "he's got nowhere else to stay" was enough to satisfy most.

No, keeping him around wasn't difficult at all, except for the part which meant dealing with Ghirahim himself.

"Is this truly your day-to-day existence, master? Amusing yourself by taking flight is all very good, I'm sure, but don't you miss... the thrill of battle?"

Link shot Ghirahim a sour look. "No, I don't."

"Oh, but I deeply miss it! I yearn to spill blood upon the ground once again, death cries are music to my ears like no other. Would it be such an inconvenience to your busy schedule to return to the surface to hunt?" Ghirahim asked.

Link didn't want to indulge Ghirahim's blood lust more than he had to. "What will you do if I say no?"

For some reason, that seemed to confuse him. "How do you mean?"

"If I don't let you fight anybody, you'll just plot to get your way anyway, won't you?"

"...Tell me." Ghirahim's voice was soft. "In all the time we've known each other, when have I ever betrayed my master's wishes?"

Thinking about it, Link remembered that Ghirahim had always been working for the benefit of Demise. While he did amuse his own appetite for combat, he'd never taken an action that would have harmed Demise save let Link get away, and that was because he'd thought him no threat to his plans.

Even when Ghirahim had been forced back into his form as Demise's weapon, in a way that looked incredibly painful, he had been laughing. Clearly what his master wanted was first priority.

But Demise and Ghirahim were alike. Link didn't think they could get any less like him-

"You decided to side with me, your master's enemy." Link crossed his arms. "Demise wouldn't have wanted that, would he? Isn't that a betrayal?"

Ghirahim closed his eyes. When he spoke again, his tone was icy cold. "Beyond the matter of him being now dead, if he were alive he would not have cared what I did. I failed him in his battle: therefore I was of no further use to him.

"To call me a traitor is something I would strike you dead for were you not my master."

Link realized that he had actually managed to deeply wound Ghirahim. Not only that, but he had done it accidentally and undeservedly.

"...We'll go down to the surface today." It was as close to an apology he could say outright.

Ghirahim cracked an eye open. "I do hope you haven't rusted away your skills yet," he said, sounding closer to his usual self. "Otherwise the whole trip will be a terrible disappointment."

* * *

Over time Link got used to dealing with Ghirahim. He was bloodthirsty, but he accepted the leash put on him, if grudgingly. If Link indulged him with a private duel now and again, a real one where neither would hold back, he would be much better behaved around people he wasn't allowed to stab if they annoyed him.

He was neither kind nor gentle, often openly laughing at Link's shortcomings, but he had little actual malicious intent toward him. It was simply the kind of person he was to find humor in other's faults, and Link knew enough humans like that not to attribute it to his demonic nature.

Even the constant invasion of his space Link was able to get used to. Ghirahim had pointed out that complaining about how close your sword was would be ridiculous unless it was about to cut your own throat. Link had gotten past his fear of being stabbed in the back, so by that logic it was natural to have him close at hand, but swords weren't normally person-shaped with long tongues...

The one thing he could never get used to was Ghirahim's flirtatiousness. He had been sure he was just messing with his mind when they were enemies, not being serious, and so things shouldn't have changed, but Ghirahim's voice in his ear could still make his skin tingle with something Link didn't recognize.

Anticipation, maybe.

Even with Ghirahim's wicked personality and the lingering worry that he didn't understand what went on in his head at all, Link still enjoyed talking to Ghirahim. He was well-informed on many subjects, didn't beat around the bush when it came to unpleasant topics or unflattering commentary, and had a style of speech that Link honestly just liked to listen to when he wasn't talking about killing anybody.

Link spent more time around Ghirahim, and indulged in his requests to visit the surface more often. This time, Ghirahim had asked to teleport them down instead of flying, and Link allowed that.

The place they appeared at wasn't somewhere Link had seen before. The building resembled a small manor, painted in red and white and looking like it had been quite grand before being abandoned for a time.

"This place is..." Link took a look around as they entered. "It looks like it was amazing when it was maintained."

"Why thank you, master. This was my place of residence, until you took me up." Ghirahim wiped off some of the dust on a tabletop and tsked. "It's in terrible shape now compared to its full glory, obviously. It needs a good cleaning, and a clearing of pests."

Link raised an eyebrow. "You wanted me to clean your house?"

"How ridiculous. That is work better done by those with no talents higher than the ability to sweep a broom, and thankfully neither you nor I fall under that lowly category." A rat emerged from its hole, and was instantly skewered by a dagger. "No, I was only nostalgic for a place where the beds are twice the size of yours and four times as comfortable."

Something about that seemed weird. "You don't sleep in my bed."

"Or, perhaps, I'm simply an earlier riser than you and you've shared your warmth with me all this time without knowing it. Who can say?" Ghirahim smirked as color rose to Link's cheeks. "Before you ask, no, I have not shared your bed with you yet. I'd prefer that first time to be with your knowledge and acceptance."

Link blushed even more. "Ghirahim..." Even he knew what Ghirahim was implying. The only question was how joking that implication was.

"Shall I show you the tour, master?"

Ghriahim's home did indeed have beds twice as large as Link's, and four times as comfortable when Link hesitantly sat on one. It also had a beautiful dining hall, and curtains all decked out in Ghirahim's favorite colors. All of the rooms seemed to suit Ghirahim perfectly: large, majestic, and just a bit imposing.

"Do you miss living here?" Link asked, leaning against a wall.

Ghirahim hummed thoughtfully, a hand on one side of the wall next to him. "Life above the clouds is ill suited to me, it's true. Far too restful. I only feel alive when I come down to the surface... or when I'm with you. All the same, were I to return here permanently, I would be missing that so vital element of your presence, and that would be far more painful than simply rusting in your home untouched."

Link hadn't expected an answer like that. He couldn't think of an answer besides a mumbled, "Oh."

"You're quite a rosy shade. Have I caught you by surprise?" Ghirahim smiled and suddenly swung so that his other hand was on Link's other side, effectively trapping him. "Oh, no, have you thought for all this time that I was merely tolerating you for the sake of self-preservation? Positively dreadful."

He leaned in closer to Link, so close that he could nearly feel him speak. "There is one other reason I brought you here into what remains my domain, in the middle of nowhere."

Link didn't trust himself to ask why.

"You have far too many neighbors. I would have done this sooner but for the prying eyes that I'm sure would have embarrassed you, and I don't want you thinking about anyone else but me."

With that he was upon Link, lips warm and softer than any sword had right to be.

Link stiffened in shock, but not for very long. He'd known in the back of his head that it was a possibility Ghirahim might mean what he played at. And in the back of his head, he had already known that the possibility of it was alluring.

Ghirahim didn't waste time when Link began to return the kiss even to purr in satisfaction. He deepened the kiss, tracing Link's lips with his tongue. Link felt a heady feeling come over him, and briefly wondered if Ghirahim could drug him with just a kiss before dismissing the idea as both absurd and not conducive to getting more of that feeling.

When Ghirahim drew away an inch Link almost protested before Ghirahim pressed a gloved finger to his lips. "Patience, my dear master. You must have patience... after all, how do you think I've felt, wanting this for so long?"

"But..." Link hadn't been sure how he was going to finish that sentence when he spoke it, so when Ghirahim waited for him to finish, he floundered for the first thing he thought of. "...why should you have to wait any longer for what you want?"

"Those are dangerous words. I don't believe you understand how dangerous." Ghirahim licked a stripe up Link's neck, making him shiver. "If I simply took what I wanted now, you would be unbearably cross with me later. No, you of all people should know how important it is to curb my undesirable appetites."

"I know, but - I want you to enjoy yourself. Not just me." Ghirahim let out a painful-sounding hiss and Link started to panic. "Ghirahim-?"

"You really don't understand... You put my pleasure before your own even knowing that I find pain and bloodshed the most pleasurable of all?" Ghirahim's hands tightened into fists against the wall. "I could be gentle with you, Link. I could take hours to draw every climax your body was capable of out of you until you could no longer think of anything but pleasure. I could do so very many things for you. Do you really wish to tell me to indulge myself?"

"You called me Link." It was all Link could think to say.

"A slip of the tongue," said Ghirahim. "Master."

"Do it again. Like when we were enemies." At Ghirahim's startled expression, Link almost smirked. "And then do exactly what you're thinking about, but don't think I'll go down easy."

Maybe he was crazy. Maybe Ghirahim wasn't the only one who missed some of the thrill of battle after all. Maybe Link really did put his pleasure before his own. Probably it was a bit of each.

There was a great deal of blood, a great deal of pain, and just as much pleasure. Ghirahim's eyes were clouded with lust of two kinds, and Link was grateful to him for having the foresight to do this away from eavesdroppers so that letting out his voice was the least of his worries.

Link lost that battle in the most technical sense, but he came out of it feeling anything but a loser, though bruised and barely able to lift his body. Ghirahim, next to him, was not much better.

"You know, master, you really should try it the gentle way at least once. You might find that you prefer it." Ghirahim wiped some blood off of Link's brow.

"I'm hoping you mean try it with you. I won't do it with anybody else," Link said, too tired to be embarrassed.

"Continually surprising me with your sentimentality." Ghirahim pressed a soft kiss to Link's ear. "Come now, the bath water still runs here and I would rather not deal with the questions of Skyloft by returning in our current condition."

Link figured that meant 'yes'.


	2. High Hopes In Velvet Ropes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy is a problem for Ghirahim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was really going to be a oneshot, and then I guess this happened, so it's a collection of master-servant GhiraLink stories now.

Ghirahim acknowledges his faults. Some of them, anyway. He has no composure when it comes to his plans going awry, or being defeated in battle (not that that happens with anyone but Link). He indulges in battles that he enjoys to the point where he will spare strong opponents just to keep them around for another fight.

Jealousy is another problem for him.

There is no competition for Ghirahim: he is simply the best there is in terms of power, beauty, and wit. The idea that anyone would prefer anyone else's company is laughable, and yet.

There is this girl. Ghirahim doesn't know her name and he doesn't care. Apparently her occupation involves storing items for other people. He can think of no job more menial and requiring of less talent.

It is blatantly obvious that she adores Link. And why not? Link is probably the only man to have paid attention to her and her job in years. That he could almost dismiss, were it not that... Link seems to return this affection.

That will not do.

He could of course kill her, but Link would be furious with him for killing anyone in Skyloft, let alone someone he has feelings for. Angry Link tends to force him into sword form and leave him in a small box in his room for days or even weeks, and Ghirahim hates that beyond words. So no killing her yet, not unless it's a last resort.

He's still considering ways to remedy the situation when Link returns to his room. He seems pleased from whatever it was he had been doing. Ghirahim's anger flares along with his suspicion. "Welcome back, Link. Did you have a good time?"

Something about the use of his name (Ghirahim almost never uses it outside of battle or bed) and the expression on his face must tip Link off. "Uh, sure...? It was just a trip around the Bazaar."

Ghirahim crosses the space between them and grabs onto his shirt. "And who exactly did you see there?"

"Just the usual people. Ghirahim, what's gotten into you?" Link asks, trying to push Ghirahim away and not succeeding. "You don't normally get like this when I go out without you."

"Things have changed." Ghirahim lifts Link's chin to more effectively glare at him. "You've been spending far too much time with certain women, and I won't stand for _my_ master thinking he can gallivant about with anyone he wants."

"You're jealou-"

Link doesn't get further than that because Ghirahim crushes his lips to his in a kiss meant to bruise. He bites down, drawing blood and a startled gasp from Link. When Link stops pushing at his chest, Ghirahim lets go of his shirt in order to carry him onto the bed and deposit him roughly onto it.

Ghirahim doesn't waste time. He knows Link's weak spots - his neck, his ears, the insides of his thighs - and attacks mercilessly with all tools at his disposal. This is not so unusual for him: he has never been one to go gentle on Link. He enjoys leaving Link as a wreck incapable of doing anything but squirm and moan.

When he would normally move on from foreplay, Ghirahim continues, and continues. He leaves marks all over Link's body, in places he knows Link can't cover. Not an inch of him escapes Ghirahim's tongue, and never is he given even a moment to breathe.

It must take a great deal of effort for Link to be able to get out, "Gh-Ghirahim, wait-" but once Ghirahim hears it, he pauses just long enough to ask, "You wanted something?"

"St...stop messing around..."

"Hm? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. You're going to have to be more specific." Ghirahim bites on Link's neck and feels him shudder.

Link has never been good at dirty talk, particularly under a haze of sensation. He manages a soft, "fuck..." and Ghirahim accepts that as the best he's probably going to get.

He smirks, divesting himself of his clothes deliberately slowly. "Is that what you want?"

Link nods.

"From me, and _no one else_?"

Link nods again more emphatically.

Preparation is quick and efficient, and Link cries out when Ghirahim drives into him. The pace is fast and the thrusts harsh, and throughout Ghirahim watches Link's face, how the pain mixes and accentuates Link's pleasure until he can't think straight or concentrate on anything else. Exactly the way Ghirahim likes it.

The only coherent word Link can seem to get out is Ghirahim's name, and he uses it over and over. He tries to meet Ghirahim's thrusts, but Ghirahim holds him still by the hips. There's nothing he needs to do but accept that he belongs to him.

With all that teasing, Ghirahim isn't surprised that Link comes almost the moment he reaches for him. His own climax is almost an afterthought.

After a minute to recover, Link reaches for Ghirahim and kisses him, almost gently. "You know there wasn't anything to be jealous over in the first place, right?"

"There won't be now." Ghirahim feels considerably better about that.


	3. The Cactus Where Your Heart Should Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of all the things Ghirahim's good at, he's very bad at change.

Link is more attentive than most people give him credit for. He reads others' moods fairly well, especially with people he's known a long time like Zelda and, more lately, Ghirahim.

How long has it been? It doesn't really matter. Where he used to be baffled by his sword's mannerisms, he finds it easier and easier to see through him. There's a smile for mocking someone, and an angry smile, and a smile that is genuinely happy. Verbal barbs can be either playful or truly meant to sting. And of course, he knows when Ghirahim is just playing around or truly fighting with his full power.

That's why he's the first, and maybe the only one to notice that Ghirahim is acting strangely.

Ghirahim is faking smiles more often with people Link knows he doesn't care a bit for. His mockery comes less and less frequently, and Link can even see him bite his tongue when he would normally let loose an insult. He'll even join Link on his Loftwing, and Link knows he doesn't care for the animal at all.

Then when they go down to the surface, he tears into enemies much more savagely than usual. Nothing that they see is spared from Ghirahim's wrath, and Link can only pull him away from the slaughter after night falls, with repeated reminders that they need to go back to Skyloft.

On Skyloft, it's all making nice through false smiles that get more and more strained until he goes back to the surface to blow off steam, and then the cycle repeats.

It's weird.

Link thinks he has a good idea of what it means, though. He pulls Ghirahim aside one day where they won't be interrupted, and says, "Ghirahim, you don't have to do this."

Ghirahim looks like he wants to make a biting comment, probably about expecting him to be a mind-reader, but all he says is, "Do what?"

"Try to change. It's obviously driving you crazy and you don't have to just for me. You're fine the way you are."

Ghirahim's floored expression is almost funny, though he recovers from it quickly. "A poor choice of words, I'm sure half the world believes I'm already crazy."

"When have you cared about anybody's opinion of you?" Link asks, folding his arms. "I like you better when you're acting like yourself."

"Heh. Then that makes you almost as bad as I am, as suits my master." Ghirahim seems to relax for the first time in weeks. "Anyway, since my efforts weren't working in the first place, I suppose I'll just have to abandon the idea altogether. I was never particularly attached to it." He flashes a smile that Link knows isn't fake. "Don't complain if you regret this."

"I won't," Link promises without a moment's hesitation.

Within the next week Ghirahim makes several children and a grown man cry just from cutting insults. Link lets him get it out of his system, and gradually things go back to normal.


End file.
